broken
by Maristela Freesia
Summary: It's the longest night of his life.


**Warning, it's long-ish. References my fic Golden but you don't need to read it. And thanks to The Sushi Monster whose comment in her review of Golden accidentally inspired this. This is my shout-out and major thanks for all the awesome reviews. If I didn't have so much schoolwork I should be working on, I'd write actual responses, but I hope you like this.**

**broken**

_[you're beautiful, every little piece, love]_

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Mara and a boy named Jerome.

She wasn't a princess and he wasn't a prince- in fact, there weren't even any castles or dragons in their fairytale. Their story happened at a boarding school, at a place called Anubis House.

Mara and Jerome sort of got along, but never really paid each other much attention. The closest they connected was while Mara's boyfriend was in the States, when they played games of chess and she ran for student rep. And then something went wrong and they went back to their not noticing each other.

This is the way Mara's story of her and Jerome goes.

She doesn't know that in his story, he's desperately in love with her but she won't notice him. In his story, he wishes she would finally realize that they're so _perfect_ but she never does.

Graduation comes. She leaves with a whole heart and high hopes. He leaves sort of shattered and wishing they'll meet again, even though the odds are against it.

_[don't you know, you're really gonna be someone]_

Somewhere along the way, strange things begin happening.

One day while they're in their twenties, Mick breaks it off with Mara. She's not sure what happened but she's crushed. Her grades at her university start slipping and it takes all her self-control and willpower to keep herself from giving up and dropping out.

One day while Jerome's celebrating a new year- the time of new beginnings- he thinks of Mara and hopes she's happy. He's not in college, but he's got a good job and he's working hard. He gets promotions every now and again. His boss likes him.

They don't know what happened to each other. If she's being honest, Mara will admit to not actually caring. If he's being honest, Jerome will admit that she was almost always on his mind.

Both of them laugh about it sometimes.

_[oh, ask anyone]_

It's Amber and Alfie's wedding.

Mara catches the bouquet. She looks over at Mick and wonders where they went wrong. His arm is slung around Joy's shoulders, because they're obviously an item now. He doesn't even look up at her, and her heart stings with the bitterest of heartbreaks.

Jerome sees her. He makes some kind of joke to Alfie, something about how maybe he'll make her dreams come true and propose. They both laugh but Jerome's so painfully serious. He wonders if Alfie knows that he's not kidding- after all, he's in love. He knows how you feel.

_[and when you find everything you looked for]_

One day, everything goes wrong.

Jerome's out walking, which is an occasional stress-reliever. There's some allegedly life-changing promotion coming up and everyone says he'll get it. For whatever reason, it's freaking him out to the extreme. And that's how he ends up walking around his neighborhood.

That's also how he sees a most definitely drunk maniac run a red light and plow headlong into a small silver car.

Like the model citizen that he's somehow become, Jerome runs to the intersection as quickly as he can. There's blood everywhere and it makes him sick. He wonders whose it is.

"Somebody call nine-nine-nine!" he shouts and is rewarded by the panicked yelling of one of the other drivers that yes, there's been a serious emergency, and there's a car wreck, and of _course_ they need an ambulance, didn't they hear the words "serious emergency"?

The smell of blood is making him dizzy and he doesn't know what to do. Is he supposed to try to pull people out of the wreckage or leave that to the paramedics? There's only one thing he knows he should do...

"Everybody stay calm!" he yells, despite how disgustingly sick he feels. "It's going to be okay! The emergency people know what they're doing!"

Some frenzied driver calls out- rather snidely and definitely unfittingly, Jerome thinks- "And do _you_ know what you're doing?"

"I know how to keep calm and shut up, so if you don't mind, let's wait for the people who know what to do to come here and do it!" he shouts, just short of calling the man something he would regret. He's not in the real world anymore, because he just recognized the victim's car. And though there are thousands of models, it brings him one step closer to collapsing on his knees and vomiting.

It's a miraculously short time before the ambulance comes. One of the paramedics thanks him for keeping the people from panic and asks if he knows either of the drivers. Jerome's voice is tight when he says he thinks he knows the victim's car and wants to know if they've identified it.

"Not yet, but I think they've got them out of the wreck," the paramedic says, sympathy in his eyes for Jerome's plight. "You can take a look if you want to."

Time slows down. He takes one step and then another, but these seem to take hours upon hours. Finally, after billions of instants that were probably just a few seconds, he reaches the gurney and his heart stops cold. It's been two years since he saw her at the wedding, and her hair is longer now, and she's so, so bloody, but there's no doubt that the girl in the silver car is Mara Jaffray.

They load her into the gurney, and he catches the arm of one of the paramedics. "Can I ride?" he asks, with the perfect comination of fear and numbness.

The paramedic looks at him suspiciously. "We usually only let family ride-"

"_Please,_" Jerome begs, drawing on his lying skills of old. "She's my girlfriend, we've been together for _years,_ and she was coming to meet me, I live that way-" he jerks his thumb towards a cluster of flats that's close enough to where he lives- "and you've _got_ to-"

The man tiredly waves a hand. "Save the sob story, and get in."

Jerome scrambles into the back of the ambulance, right before the doors slam and it roughly begins a journey to the hospital. He stares numbly at the blood in matted Mara's gorgeous, grown-out raven black hair, giving it a disconcerting reddish gleam. None of the blood seems to be coming from her, which is a good sign- or at least, he thinks it is. But if she's _not_ hurt then it's too good to be true and better than he's actually deserved.

Terrified and trying not to hyperventilate and need a paramedic himself, Jerome grabs her hand, but doesn't succumb to the overused chant of "Stay with me, you'll be all right, come on!" or something similar. Instead, he says quietly, "I love you, Mara. I've loved you ever since... well, I can't figure out since when, but for such a long time. I've loved you even when you were with Mick and didn't look twice at me, I've loved you even when you wanted to rip my throat out..."

He continues in this manner until they rush her into the hospital and he's not allowed in her room just yet. It's the longest night of his life.

_[i hope your life leads you back to my front door]_

The first thing Mara is aware of is that she is not in her car.

It's a strange thing, to think you're driving and then wake up in a bed. Particularly since she doesn't remember how she got to the bed. And even more particularly because this bed looks frighteningly like something inside a hospital.

And especially because she can't feel her legs.

She sucks in a deep breath and regrets it because she feels a strange stab of pain. Looking to her right, Mara sees nothing but white- except for frightening crimson splotches in her bed and something ominously blood-like in her hair. Looking to her left, the view is a lot different.

"J-" she tries to speak, but her mouth is sawdust-dry. She tries to work up enough wetness in her mouth that her voice won't sound completely awful, and then starts again. "J... Jerome?" she finally croaks.

It's like she's poked him with something red-hot. He wakes up from what seems to have been him sleeping, jumping out of his seat a bit, then his head whips to his side to look at her. "You're awake!"

"How long..." Mara can't finish, because she has so many ways to finish it. _How long have you been there? How long have I been here? How long have I been out?_ But they all fade in the face of the real question. "What happened?"

Jerome's face creases with confusion. "Don't you remember?"

"Is there something _to_ remember?" she asks blankly.

He shakes his head. "Some drunk _bastard_ ran a red light and crushed the side of your car." She's surprised by the venom in his voice, then by the softness in it when he adds, "They can't save your car."

"How'd you hear? Is it in the _paper_ or something?" As horrified as she is by the idea of her being in the paper because somebody crashed their car into hers, she stupidly hopes that Mick saw and worried. Quietly she pulls her knees up, not quite to her chest but near it.

Again, he shakes his head. "I..." his voice fades in the closest thing to sadness she's ever heard from him, then he swallows and tries again. "I saw it. I was out walking and I saw it."

Mara's stunned. "Oh," she says quietly, not sure if it's a good time to say she's sorry- but for what?- or ask why he's here. She looks down at her feet, then her blood freezes.

She could've sworn she'd bent her legs, and that her knees were drawn up. She remembered telling her body to do it. So why are her legs still flat out in front of her?

Jerome sees what she's looking at, and sighs. "Do you want to hear it from me or a doctor?"

"You," she says. Her lips barely move. She barely dares to breathe. "I've heard it's easier if you know the person." It's all right. She knows what's happened.

"That _bastard-_" there's that horrible furious venom again- "when he ran into you, it... it broke your spine."

Mara lifts her hands to her waist and slowly moves them down. The feeling in her torso is gone before her hands touch her hips.

"Oh," she says again, shock and fear dripping into her voice. "_Oh..._"

"Paralysis," Jerome says grimly. "They said you're a paraplegic, probably for life. I'm so, so sorry."

"What happened to the other driver?" she asks, not actually caring about the answer. Her mind is trying desperately to adjust to the idea that she will never stand again, never walk, run, jump for joy, never do _anything_ with her feet again...

"His arm got crushed in the impact." He laughs, but it's humorless and slightly terrifying. "It's not right, is it? He loses an arm and gets a fake, you lose both legs."

"The blood," she says, still terribly numb. "Where's that from?"

"You hit your head and got cut." Automatically Mara's hands move to find it, and brush against the ugly cut on her forehead. There are stitches.

"Has... has anyone else come?"

Jerome sighs. "Oh, come on, Mara. I know who you're asking about. Don't try and be delicate."

"Okay, fine," she says, small bits of anger fizzing to life inside of her. "Has _Mick_ come to see me?"

"No." He clearly doesn't want to be delicate, either. "Word hasn't gone out yet. It was only yesterday."

"And-" There are tears in her eyes, sobs stuck in the back of her throat, strangling her. She can't remember what she was going to say, but instead whispers, "Oh, God, I'm _paraplegic..._"

Sadly, Jerome smiles. "You need to go back to sleep, Mar."

"Wait," she says, struggling, but she's exhausted, whether it's a drug pumping through some IV that she hasn't noticed or actual, physical exhaustion. "I don't want to-"

"Get some sleep," he says, his voice soft but still firm. "Then you can wake up and face the days to come."

Her eyelids flutter. "Tell me if someone comes? And you don't need to stay..." And she's drifting into the land of sleep.

If she had stayed awake for just a few more seconds, she would've heard him laugh bitterly to himself and say, "I wish I could leave, but I can't."

_[oh, but if it don't]_

The funny thing about life is that even when you want it so badly to freeze, to end, to stop and never continue, it keeps going. Such was the revelation of Mara Jaffray as she began her new life as a paraplegic.

It's also funny how when bad things happen, you find out who really, honestly cares. Mick doesn't come but Joy does. She says they split up but he has a new girlfriend, and gives Mara such a big hug she thinks she'll pop. Alfie and Amber come- and while part of their reasoning is they want to show off Amber's baby bump, they shower her with love. Nina and Fabian visit but don't genuinely seem to _care,_ per se; rather, they just come to make sure she's not dead. One day Patricia and Joy come together and they all sit and talk everything out. It's so much like the old days that Mara wants to cry.

And Jerome. Even if she says she doesn't mind if he leaves, even if she asks him to leave, he doesn't. He's perpetually there, always by her side. He makes her laugh and sometimes makes her want to scream, but he's always there making sure she doesn't slip and fall, or give up.

Rehab comes a couple weeks after she wakes up. It's not like drug-rehab; it's more _therapy._ Physical therapy, how to deal with the looks people will give her and her wheelchair, how to deal with the wheelchair, even regular visits from a shrink. It's painful but in the best way possible.

Mara's first real problem occurs when she goes back to her apartment complex to find the elevator broken. It's the moment when she realizes that she needs, if not a first-floor room, a flat of her own. It's with great shame that she collects her remnants of dignity and calls Jerome. Her choice to call him is surprisingly natural, but embarrassing nonetheless. He shows up at her building within minutes and helps her into his car. She stays the night and likes it a bit more than she'd care to admit.

The elevator is quickly fixed and Mara goes to her apartment. Jerome helps her pack. He doesn't even question what's going on. He probably figured it out.

It's not until the car is halfway to his neighborhood that she turns to him and says, "I'm sorry, should I ask?"

He gives a wry chuckle. "I knew you would want to come. It's fine."

She's completely moved into his house within the week.

_[will you stay-]_

Life spirals forward.

They never actually get married, but they don't really care. Eventually they're married by common law and that's enough for the both of them. They play with Amber and Alfie's daughter Sarah when she comes over and answer all her questions about what Auntie Mara's wheelie-chair is for.

There are no kids, adopted or otherwise. Neither of them actually mind, although occasionally they wonder what life with kids would be like.

Most importantly, Mara adjusts. She learns what she can do, she learns how to cope with what she can't. The wheelchair makes life harder, but the way she sees it, it's a little like a math problem: there's always a solution, no matter how hard it may look.

Jerome is a gift from God. He knows exactly what to say and when to say it. More importantly, he knows when to shut up and stay out of her way. He's adjusted, too. It's not the easiest thing, having a wife-or-girlfriend stuck in a wheelchair, but he loves her and he works through it.

Together they're perfect.

They pass away quietly in their own time. Jerome dies of a heart attack at what everyone says is a good age but what Mara says is too young. She takes forever to follow in his footsteps, but that's all right. She knows he's waiting for her on the other side.

_[will you stay-]_

Their eternity is crafted just for them.

_Laughter, blurring into beauty and so much joy. Legs, and she's running with him again. And forever. All of forever, spent by each other's side._

_This is perfection._

_[will you stay beautiful?]_

**So we had this guest speaker in my health class talking about how she ended up in a wheelchair. That, and my overwhelming desire to write something less happy for HoA, combined to form this. I personally really like it, even if the Mara-moving-in scene is sorta sketchy... lyrics (with a little edit to make them long enough) are from Stay Beautiful by Taylor Swift. Hope you like it! Love, Mari.**


End file.
